Who's a Tetchy Bear?
by MoonyEstelChase
Summary: Challenge #276) Santa's Grumpiest Elf by 96 Hubbles - Newkirk's not really the most cheerful this Christmas, so Hogan orders him to be merry and bright (Like that's going to happen).
1. Joy to the Newkirk

**A/N *singing* IT'S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR! Sorry; needed to get that out. This fic will consist of a short prologue (this chapter), a chapter for each of the main gang (including Hogan), and an epilogue.**

 **I started out with humor in mind, but then it spiraled into super-angst land. I don't think Newkirk's had many Christmases worth celebrating. Be warned.**

… **On that depressing** **note, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!**

* * *

When Carter is near tears, LeBeau looks like he's going to have an aneurism, and even Kinch seems offended, you know something is wrong.

Hogan was astonished. "I'm gone for ten minutes and it looks like we're in a prison camp of something. What happened?"

LeBeau positively glowed with indignation. " _Si je_ _le vois, je_ _jure que je_ _lui_ _tranche la gorge.*_ "

Kinch rubbed his knuckles against his lips in an obvious effort to calm down before he answered. "Newkirk is not in the best of moods right now."

Raising his eyebrows, Hogan said, "I guess so. What'd he do?"

"I'd rather not say."

The eyebrows ascended to new heights. "I see. Where is he now?"

LeBeau jerked his thumb towards the door. He was obviously still upset, so confronting him on his lack of respect would probably not be the best course of action. Hogan quickly left the barracks, immediately feeling the atmosphere change. LeBeau sure could radiate emotion when he wanted to.

He wasn't sure he really wanted to know what Newkirk said, but some kind of reconciliation needed to happen.

He strode to the delousing shed where he knew Newkirk liked to brood. And yes, that happened surprisingly often. Newkirk was usually even tempered, but he sometimes got into a funk that lasted for a while. A long while. Hogan was contemplating Newkirk's inconsistencies as he rounded the corner and was almost taken out by a fist that froze inches away from his face. "What the …" he spluttered.

Dark eyes peered at him. "Sorry, sir. Didn't know it was you."

Hogan frowned. Newkirk still sounded furious. "Well, I guess I'm glad I'm not LeBeau. What's going on?"

Newkirk's smile was strained as he said, "Nothing."

" … That was so obviously a lie, I'm not even going to dignify it with a fake believing answer."

The Englishman looked away. Hogan sighed. "Fine. You wanna play it this way? I'll pull rank." he warned.

No reaction.

"Corporal, answer my question."

If Newkirk's eyes had ever looked stonier than they were now, Hogan was not aware of it. Newkirk's head jerked up to stare at him. "Colonel, sir." Newkirk said with the utmost formality. "I am having a disagreement with some others."

"Don't do this, Newkirk. What wrong?"

Newkirk stoically stared ahead. Hogan was rapidly losing his temper. "Alright, soldier. Here are your orders. I want you to make it up to the three men you aggravated. There's enough depressing stuff in this camp without you. You have to find a way to make them happy before Christmas. Got it?"

Only a professional nod answered him. Hogan sighed again as he walked away. He knew it was hard to be in a prison camp during the holidays, but a man who was as influential as Newkirk could really make it worse with an attitude like that. So it'd be for the best to get Newkirk to make up first. He only hoped that there wouldn't be too much blood when Newkirk approached LeBeau.

* * *

TBC

* * *

*"If I see him, I swear I'll slit his throat." Typical LeBeau reaction :)


	2. Hark the Herald Kinches Sing

**A/N I planned** **to write and** **edit this story once a day, get in two updates a week, and finish before Christmas. You know, be the author everyone loves because they are so regular.**

 **HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! *wipes away tears of** **laughter* I should have known better. Sorry guys. Now I'm just praying I can get the story done by January 5 (aka the 12** **th** **Day of Christmas) :P**

* * *

The radio station was very quiet. So quiet that Kinch could hear the hum of the radios, the buzz of electricity, the laughter upstairs in the barracks as the other men decorated for the holidays as best they could. So quiet that Kinch could hear the loud breathing of someone else in the room.

He rolled his eyes. "Aren't you supposed to be a thief, Newkirk? I can hear you."

The Brit stood up from behind a table. "Wasn't really trying to 'ide, mate." Newkirk approached Kinch, seemingly nonchalant, but Kinch could see those long fingers twitching in agitation.

"Sure." Kinch raised his eyebrows disbelievingly. "What's all this about?" Despite Newkirk's bravado, he and the other close friends Newkirk had made during their stay had quickly learned the thief's nervous tells and habits. And busy fingers were one of them.

Now Newkirk rolled his eyes. "Why's it that everyone's asking me that?"

"Maybe it's because you're not as good at hiding your emotions as you wish."

Silence. Kinch watched Newkirk struggle to keep his face a calm mask. "Look Newkirk. If you need to say something, spit it out already."

Some more silence.

Then a hitching sigh. The resolve on Newkirk's face crumbled, and Kinch almost smiled to see it. Almost.

Newkirk scrubbed his face with his hands. "The Colonel … 'e ordered me to make it right with you all."

Kinch furrowed his brow when he saw that Newkirk's hand was starting to tremble; he wondered how long it had been since his friend had slept. "Make what right?"

Newkirk took a second to collect himself before he answered, "Colonel 'ogan saw you all upset and though that I …" he trailed off, almost losing his composure.

Cursing inwardly, Kinch got up from his seat and approached Newkirk, putting a steading hand on his back. He could feel Newkirk shaking a bit. He had to think before he said something; Newkirk was obviously having a hard time controlling his emotions, and Kinch didn't want the Englishman to feel humiliated for being emotionally open. Though, that would probably happen no matter what Kinch did.

"Listen to me." Kinch sat Newkirk down and then knelt in front of him, pulling Newkirk's chin up to make him look Kinch in the eye. "The Colonel might mean well, but he has no idea what's going on. And even though you are refusing to talk to him about it, I think he might be more understanding if you explained why you're so upset."

Newkirk violently shook his head. Kinch sighed. "I'll respect your wishes. But just remember what I said."

Smiling a very watery smile, Newkirk drew in a shaky breath. "Thanks mate. I only … I don't think I can talk to 'im about …"

Kinch punched Newkirk lightly on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it."

Newkirk stood. "I should leave. If the Colonel asks, could you let 'im know we made up?"

The American nodded. Newkirk smiled again, then turned to go back to the barracks. Kinch could almost feel his hesitation to re-enter society after such a deeply personal moment. Trying to be discrete, Kinch asked Newkirk, "Hey. You wanna help me out down here a minute? I've been kinda lonely."

The palpable gratitude that was on Newkirk's face lit the room. "I'd be 'appy to, Kinch." And as the two men sang a few carols, Kinch could see Newkirk's tension leak out. He smiled. Even if it only brought Newkirk a few moments of happiness, Kinch was happy he could be the one who caused it.

 _"Peace on earth …"_


	3. Deck the Carter With Boughs of Holly

**A/N … Hi? I, uh, know** **it's actually after Christmas, but … I'M SO SORRY! I was** **moving** **and** **there was no wifi** **and the holidays happened and I've been lazy. I apologize :(**

 **Here's a clarification. This story happened pretty early in the operation, so Newkirk doesn't know Hogan and Carter as well. He's not going to want to open up to them, and LeBeau** **and Kinch won't talk about "it" without his permission. So … I'm seeing an explosion in the near future!**

 **Also, I'm typing with gloves on because** **my room is freezing. So** **there** **may be some** **mistakes.**

* * *

"You'll forgive me?"

Carter rarely glared. And even if he did, it wasn't intimidating. At all. In fact, LeBeau had informed Carter that his glare looked more like constipation. But this fact did not deter him from giving Newkirk the Glare Royale.

"Knucklehead!" he exploded. "Why can't you just be a normal person who expresses their emotions naturally? Why do you have to keep important stuff from us?"

Newkirk was looking a little pale. Carter wondered for a minute if he had actually scared Newkirk, but changed his mind. Newkirk never got scared by Carter (unfortunately, he thought). He was probably just white because he was worried … yeah. That was probably it.

Carter watched Newkirk pick at the edge of his jacket … that was a habit Newkirk had when he was panicking. Which meant something was really wrong. "You all right, Buddy?"

The Englishman smiled, but it looked sort of grim. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why d'you ask?"

He looked at Newkirk almost condescendingly. "You're white as Shultz's hair, you're trying to hide that you're shaking, and don't think I haven't noticed your tossing around all night."

But Newkirk didn't respond the way Carter was expecting. Not at all. Newkirk merely shrugged, not yelling or getting red or sarcastic or anything, really. Carter got off his bunk and walked over to the table where Newkirk was sitting. He sat there for a minute, thinking.

Newkirk didn't usually break down, but when he did … actually, Carter had never seen him break. This was a bit worrying, because Carter always needed to know the outcome before he began any kind of experiment. He couldn't solve a problem without all the data, and Newkirk was withholding needed information.

"Newkirk," he began tentatively. "Why won't you talk to someone about what's bothering you? You don't have to tell me if you're afraid I won't keep the secret, even though I will and I wouldn't ever tell anyone, but at least talk to LeBeau or Kinch or The Colonel …"

Newkirk cut him off with a jerk. "I don't want to talk to someone. I'm fine." To emphasize his point, Newkirk crossed his arms.

"But the reason you got in trouble in the first place is because you're so grumpy because you have problem and won't share it!"

Newkirk stared at him crossly. "I don't know what you mean."

Carter rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Yesterday, you were about to burst into tears. You wouldn't talk to me, and Louis and Kinch obviously knew more about whatever was wrong than I did, but I wanted to help, but then Louis offered to make you some food, and you went on this big rant about how he was a terrible cook and when Kinch tried to step in, you said …"

"Allright." Newkirk interjected. "So? I was in a bad mood."

"Newkirk!"

"Listen. I … I don't want to talk to anyone. It's not your problem. The best way for you to 'elp me is just accept my apology so the Colonel doesn't get up my tail. 'right?"

Huffing, Carter leaned over to rest a hand on Newkirk's. "Fine." He said reluctantly. "I'll tell Colonel Hogan I forgive you … if you let someone know about whatever is happening." Newkirk scowled, but Carter kept going. "Promise."

Newkirk rubbed his forehead, then ran his hands through his short hair. "I …"

"You don't have to right this second, but at least bring it up with LeBeau or Kinch before Christmas."

Hesitating only a minute longer, Newkirk nodded. Carter beamed. "Great! You'll feel a lot better, I'm sure."

Newkirk grumped, "When you're sure about something, it doesn't always work."

Awkward silence reigned for a moment before Carter inevitably opened his mouth. "You're a good sew-er, right?"

"Actually, sew-er isn't a word. It's called being a tailor or a …"

Carter interrupted. "Yeah, yeah. But you sew, right?"

Grudgingly, Newkirk agreed.

"Will you fix my pants?"

"No."

"Why?"

A smirk graced Newkirk's face, but he didn't answer.

"WHY?"

* * *

 **A/N Because Newkirk likes being a punk, that's why.**


	4. O Come LeBeau (aka Really, LeBea?)

**A/N Life really** **sucks.**

* * *

"I will shave your head, Olsen, if you don't watch your mouth!"

LeBeau was in a fine mood tonight. Any little thing would set him off. Especially little things like sarcastic barrack-mates. Named Olsen. "He is going through something you do not understand, and you may not speak of him like that!"

Olsen held up placating hands, trying to avoid a stew-dripping spoon. "I'm sorry! But you were whining about him, so I thought ..."

"YOU? THOUGHT? _Vraiment_? I had not known."

"Hey!" Olsen yelled.

Both men were glaring at one another with a virulent passion when Newkirk wandered in. He took one look at the situation, then turned to walk straight out again.

"Don't move!" LeBeau bellowed.

Newkirk froze. The Frenchman stalked over to Newkirk, waving his spoon around and forcing Newkirk to back up against his bunk. "What do you want?" LeBeau shot at him.

"Uh … it can wait …"

Glaring, LeBeau was much more intimidating than Carter. "No. Tell me now."

Newkirk seemed very uncomfortable. "It's a bit private …"

"Newkirk! I am not in the mood! What is your problem?"

"I don't want to raise 'ell with you right now, Louis. I'll wait." Newkirk started to inch away again, clearly showing he did not want an argument. Unfortunately, LeBeau did want an argument. A week without releasing had not done his soul any favors.

Olsen gestured to LeBeau's furious face. "See? Why are you the only one allowed to talk to him like that?" He thought LeBeau resembled a tiny vengeful bat flying over. He perched in front of Olsen's face with finality.

"Because." An intense stare made Olsen look away.

"Fine!" Olsen relented. LeBeau slowly pulled away, allowing Olsen to slip out from his view. He turned back to Newkirk, only to see the Englishman had left the barracks rather quickly.

"Damn!" LeBeau cursed. He ran out of the barracks, hitting Shultz with a sudden thud.

"What is wrong, LeBeau?" Shultz inquired as LeBeau sprang up, still cursing.

LeBeau breathed heavily. "Have you seen Newkirk?"

Shultz' eyes widened comically. "Has he done something? Do I need to put him in the cooler?"

LeBeau shook his head. "No, no. I was being the fool, not him. Did you see him come out just now?"

"Ja! He was going fast."

He was losing patience. "But where did he go?"

Shultz shrugged. "I was not watching."

LeBeau had to take several deep breaths so that he didn't do something he'd regret. "Thank you." Now he'd have to find Newkirk and apologize.

* * *

 **A/N Ha! Bet you didn't expect LeBeau** **to make everything worse! Well … maybe you did, but I didn't. Really. This chapter took forever because I kept trying to make it not end up here, but it always did. I guess it's true to form for LeBeau, so we'll have to make this story a chapter longer :)**


	5. God Rest Ye Merry Brits and Frenchies

LeBeau looked quite a while for Newkirk. Which probably meant Newkirk did not want to be found, but who cares what he wants? What Newkirk thought he wanted was often not what he wanted or needed, if that makes sense.

After a time of fruitless searching, LeBeau decided to wait for Newkirk come. He sat down in the middle of the yard, apparently content to sit there until Newkirk appeared. Carter and a very subdued Olsen watched from inside the barracks. "You think he'll be there long?" Olsen asked.

Carter shook his head. "If I know Newkirk, he'll show up soon. I think he likes LeBeau too much to let him wait. He'll probably give it 15 minutes so he can rub it in LeBeau's face a little, then they'll make up."

Olsen seemed to be confused. "Why is Newkirk even upset? LeBeau yells at him all the time!"

"I think,' Carter started, "that just now, that Newkirk wanted … well, you know how Colonel Hogan told him to make up with everyone?"

"Yeah." Olsen nodded, having been around to see the stormy after effects of Hogan's order.

"Uh, well, I think that when Newkirk was trying to apologize to LeBeau, LeBeau's anger at you spilled over and Newkirk could tell it was real, so he tried to back out, but LeBeau wouldn't let him do it on his own terms, so it made him upset," Carter blurted out quickly.

Olsen was still processing Carter's verbal splat when a bored Cockney voice sounded from behind them. "You've certainly seemed to 'ave figured me out."

Carter jumped five inches and Olsen nearly squealed. "When'd you get here?" Carter squeaked in surprise.

Newkirk's shark smile was frightening. "I've been here."

"How long?"

The smile widened, but no answer came. Olsen swallowed nervously. "Are you going to, you know."

Newkirk just looked at him a long minute before answering, "No. I'm just gonna let my best mate sit in the dirt forever."

Carter's mouth dropped. "Really?"

Newkirk lifted his eyes to the heavens. "Sarcasm, Carter." Carter blushed while Newkirk shook his head. The Englishman looked out the window at LeBeau waiting patiently to apologize. "Alright." He squared his shoulders and walked outside.

Carter and Olsen scrambled back over to watch. Newkirk approached LeBeau from behind, walking softly. He sat quietly at LeBeau's back, not alerting LeBeau to his presence. It took a good twn minutes before LeBeau noticed Newkirk behind him. His reaction was not unlike Carter and Olsen's; maybe a mix of the two.

The snoops saw as the men talked, their conversation becoming more and more heated. Carter winced when LeBeau swung at Newkirk, nearly making contact. LeBeau's face was cherry red, and Newkirk's eyes were starting to bulge. Then, they suddenly stopped, stared, then started laughing, hard and loud. They toppled over, still howling. Olsen looked at Carter in consternation. "I think they've lost it."

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Hogan watched his men laughing; he smiled. All was right in the world.


End file.
